


Honor

by Tah the Trickster (TahTheTrickster)



Series: My Hero. [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-15
Updated: 2014-10-15
Packaged: 2018-02-21 07:16:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 894
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2459612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TahTheTrickster/pseuds/Tah%20the%20Trickster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The dragons have returned, and they're on the attack. Fortunately, the Dragonborn too has made an appearance. Unfortunately, the Dragonborn has appeared in the form of a weakling Khajiit. To top things off, Lydia's now in charge of keeping the kid alive. Lydia couldn't be any less amused.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Honor

Whiterun was locked down tight after news of the dragon's appearance.

We'd been in the middle of discussion with the Jarl on what to do about it beyond locking down the city when a guard rushed in, looking disheveled. I raised a brow. "Jarl Balgruuf," he struggled to get out through rasping breaths.

The Jarl merely sighed, straightening up in his seat. "What is it?"

"There's—some _Khajiit_ at the gate, demanding to be let in."

A ripple of annoyance threaded through the room. I myself merely rolled my eyes at the unnecessary intrusion. "Is that all?" the Jarl said. "Remind her that their caravans are not _welcomed_ in Whiterun."

"Uh, I don't think this one's, uh, from a caravan. Sir."

I was about to impatiently demand to know what he was going on about when a scuffle behind the Dragonsreach doors drew our attention.

The door flew open. In staggered a young Khajiit struggling with a guard hanging off of her, trying to drag her down by the neck, from what I could tell. I watched incredulously as she bit him, fangs buried deep in his forearm before he yelped and dropped her, cradling his bloodied arm.

"Perhaps gauntlets for the guards, my Jarl," I murmured to him.

He was distracted, staring at the Khajiit in sheer bemusement. "Indeed..."

"You!" the first guardsman gasped.

She shoved him out of the way. "Me." The Khajiit ducked when he swung at her, his fist only grazing the tops of her pierced, pointed ears. He evidently wasn’t used to taking on enemies nearly a foot shorter than himself.

I stood, hand on my sword's hilt, as she approached, but the Jarl raised his hand to stop me. I reluctantly sat back down. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

Up close, she looked even worse. She was a scrawny thing, dark fur matted with dirt and soot. She wore leather armor that had seen better days, and had a flimsy-looking iron sword at her hip. Her face was riddled with scars, the most obvious set raking across her muzzle. They looked old.

She wiped the guard’s blood off her mouth with the back of her hand, grimacing. “This one seeks the Jarl,” she rasped out, her Elsweyrian accent almost too thick to understand.

Jarl Balgruuf looked amused. “Oh really?”

She frowned. “Dar’Zahyla brings a message from Riverwood. About the dragon.”

The entire room perked up. Irileth stepped forward, her eyes narrowed. “What could _you_ possibly know about the dragon?” she demanded.

The Khajiit—Dar’Zahyla, apparently—pointedly dusted a little soot off of her breastplate. “This one was there.” The Jarl made a motion for her to continue. “It destroyed Helgen. It comes this way. Riverwood is in danger.”

The small Khajiit went quiet as Irileth began to argue with Proventus regarding the politics of dispatching soldiers to the town. She looked around awkwardly, obviously uncomfortable with being present. I made eye contact by accident and she dropped her gaze immediately.

“Khajiit,” Jarl Balgruuf called, and the girl started, looking up in surprise. “There is another thing you could do for me.”

She listened intently as he gave her her orders, and she left to see the wizard. We were quiet until she left Dragonsreach again, instructions in hand.

“Jarl Balgruuf,” I spoke up as the door closed.

“Yes, Lydia?”

“Is this wise? Putting a Khajiit in charge of something this important?” I asked hesitantly. “I mean… you know what her kind is like.”

The Jarl chuckled, picking up his goblet. “Indeed. However, look at it this way.” He sat up slightly, idly swirling the cup. “If she brings it back, she can be trusted. If she dies in Bleak Falls, we have no real loss."

“I suppose…”

I didn’t hear of her again for another few days. Even then, it was only in the Greybeards’ summons for the Dovahkiin. As soon as the Shout had finished echoing down from High Hrothgar, the arguments began.

“Sir,” Proventus started at the Jarl’s contemplative look, “what are you thinking?”

“If the Greybeards are summoning the Khajiit,” he mused aloud, “then the dragon at the watchtower must have been slain.”

“Sir you cannot possibly…”

Jarl Balgruuf raised his hand to silence him. “She will soon be considered a hero throughout the hold. Granting her a title would be the _least_ I could do to repay her. Lydia.”

I started when he addressed me. I didn’t like where this was going already. “...Yes, my Jarl?”

“I have made the decision to make this… what was her name, Dar’Zahyla?” He looked askance at Proventus to affirm it. “She will be made Thane of my court. I will be assigning you as her Housecarl.”

I gaped at him. “Sir, you can’t be serious,” I protested. He raised a brow. “She’s just a kid. A lucky one, but still just a kid. She has no need for a Housecarl. Beyond that, my duty is to protect Dragonsreach, not—”

The Jarl sat up. “Your duty is to _follow orders._ ”

I wilted slightly. “...Yes, my Jarl.”

“It will be your honor to protect the Dragonborn, if she really is so.”

“I understand, sir.”

I thought of the scrawny Khajiit in poor armor that’d entered Dragonsreach by way of threats and fisticuffs just days earlier, and suddenly I couldn’t think of anything I wanted to do _less_.


End file.
